


Pen15 is Mightier Drabble Challenges

by BrandonStrayne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Art, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Azkaban, BDSM, Beaches, Camping, Community: Pen15isMightier, Drabbles, Dragons, F/M, Gen, Howlers (Harry Potter), Injury Recovery, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Pen15 is Mightier, Photography, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2019-06-07 10:12:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15216911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrandonStrayne/pseuds/BrandonStrayne
Summary: A random assortment of drabbles written for the Pen15 is Mightier weekly drabble challenges. Each chapter will be its own drabble and the title of the chapter will be the prompt for that particular challenge.





	1. Tongue War

Before I can grasp what’s happening, he has me backed up to the wall and his lips are crashing down on mine. This isn't a sweet, tender kiss of a parting lover. This kiss is all teeth and anger and desperation. This kiss is the last desperate battle of this war. He invades my mouth and lays siege to every inch of skin he can reach until without warning he pulls away and the rush of sensations abruptly ends, leaving me gasping.

“Maybe you would’ve been something I’d be good at, but now we’ll never know.”

And then he’s gone.


	2. Unsexy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this one. I find this prompt hilarious though.

The sound of air being sucked between his teeth replaced the slurping sounds that were coming from underneath his robes only a moment ago.

“Merlin, watch the teeth, Brown!” Theo exclaimed, as the scrape of Lavender’s teeth assaulted his cock.

“Ggggghhhh…...gggggghhhhhh,” Lavender’s hacking sounds echoed around the cavernous Trophy Room for a moment before she reached up and removed something from her outstretched tongue. “Gross! If you want me to do this again, trim these bloody pubes! I just about swallowed one of your coarse curlies.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” Theo guides his prick back into Lavender’s hot, moist mouth parts. “Oh, and Brown, don’t be afraid to explore ‘south of the pole’.”

A satisfied smirk rises on Theo’s face as Lavender’s spare hand snakes past his hairy kiwis and one of her fingers breaches his orifice.  _ Brown, indeed. _


	3. Rainbow

“Draco, would you hurry up already? Hermione’s going to go spare if we’re late!” Harry begged his boyfriend once again through the door of their bathroom. He thought, just maybe, he heard a scoff and some muttering through the wood, but he couldn’t be sure.

 

Harry pulled uncomfortably at the tie around his neck holding his bonnet in place. Per tradition, Hermione was throwing a literature themed party and this year’s theme was ‘Jane Austen’. He’s not sure how Draco managed to talk him into being the Prejudice in their couple’s costume though. Harry gave his transfigured boobs an exploratory squeeze...okay, maybe it wasn’t so bad. They could do some experimenting with those later.

 

Suddenly desperate to get this party over with, Harry lifted his hand to pound on the door once more, but before he could make contact, the door swung open and Harry’s head went completely blank.

 

Draco’s white-blonde hair has been enchanted to glow, and the sharp lines of his face have been highlighted with golden accents and dramatic smokey eye makeup, as if it’s the source of light in the world. Starting under his chin, his entire body has been coloured in a rainbow pattern, making it appear as if the rainbow is emerging from within the golden halo atop his head. His only clothing is a speck of golden spandex fabric which Harry doesn’t even think could be defined as shorts; they’re so miniscule and tight.

 

Draco had a satisfied smirk on his face as he watched Harry struggle to process the scene in front of him. Finally, he managed to spit out a garbled, “Wh-what is THAT?! You said you were going to be Mr. Darcy!”

 

Draco strutted past Harry and into their bedroom, making sure to rub against Harry and add a little extra sway to his hips for his boyfriend to appreciate. “No, what I said was that we were going as Pride & Prejudice.” Draco paused in the doorway to their bedroom and looked over his shoulder at Harry, who was still frozen in place by the bathroom door. “Hurry up Harry, we wouldn’t want Granger-Weasley to go spare.”


	4. Wand

Gellert spun the wand slowly between his fingers, running his hand over the dimpled protrusions. The countless hours he had spent pouring over ancient scrolls and the correspondence of long-dead witches and wizards, following the ethereal trail of clues, was finally paying off.

Gellert only wished his old friend could be here to see this. It had been a shared dream of theirs, to become Master of Death, and though he had not seen Albus in person in many years, he still feels the absence of his partner as if they had parted mere days ago. He is unsure whether he will ever get over the pain of their estrangement, but as hallowed as Albus is to him, this quest will always come first.

Gellert slipped the Elder Wand into his robe pocket and pulled the stack of parchment on the desk in front of him towards himself, the handwriting so faded and small that it’s nearly illegible. The search is not yet over.


	5. Rope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Drabble was inspired by a collaboration I did with [Keep_Calm_and_Expecto_Patronum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum/pseuds/Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum), the [Maître!verse](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1082166), and is intended as a Dumbledore/Grindelwald. It was also inspired by this image:

He had thought that the anticipation could not get any more overwhelming as The Maître had slowly stripped him and then started wrapping the length around his naked skin. The unicorn hair rope is satiny-soft against his skin, but couldn’t compare to the occasional graze of his Master’s fingertips on his skin that sent zaps of excitement careening through his body. He extends his arms experimentally, the rope bonding his wrists together behind his back pulling against his neck as the thick braid of rope connecting them pulls taut. His cock is a turgid prominence in front of him, bobbing with excitement at being constrained and the euphoric rush as his airway is temporarily blocked. His master bends him over and fucks slowly into him. He begs for him to go faster, to fuck him harder, but he is denied. The claiming stretches out for what feels like hours, his Master maintaining that torturously slow rhythm.In. Out. In. Out. Finally he can feel his orgasm creep up, rising like the tide and as he pulls his wrists down, he lets the beautiful darkness of his orgasm wash over him.


	6. Detention

“The Wizengamot has come to a decision. The defendant, Lucius Malfoy, will be detained in Azkaban for a period of 25 years for his crimes against Wizardkind.”

The courtroom broke into a flurry of whispers as the verdict was read out by the Chief Warlock, and he would be deluding himself if he thought the overall tone was one of sadness.

Lucius kept his chin high, more out of habit than pride, as his two Aurors took hold of his arms and began to lead him from the courtroom. Narcissa, her lips trembling as two tear streaks ran down her cheeks, stood up from the bench they were sitting on and rushed towards him before one of the Aurors stepped in front of him, blocking her way.

“Please...let me say goodbye to my family,” Lucius asked, straining to keep his composure and remain strong for Narcissa and Draco’s sake.

The two Aurors looked at each other and then seemed to decide that the risk was manageable before the one standing between him and Narcissa stepped back. Lucius couldn’t help but notice that his wand was grasped firmly in his hand.

Narcissa stepped forward carefully, not wanting to make any rapid movements in front of the tense Aurors, until she was so close that the brought her hands up and fisted them in the robes at his chest, burying her face in his chest as a sob shook her torso. Lucius slowly brought his arms up and rubbed her back soothingly, making sure to keep his hands visible to the Aurors and not giving them any excuse to make this any worse for his family.

Lucius nuzzled his nose against his wife’s straight hair, trying to commit the smell of her custom made perfume to memory. He may never have a chance to inhale that soothing smell again, and his memory would need to sustain him through the next 25 years. Assuming he lived that long.

He raised his head to gaze at his son. The boy—man now, he supposed—was still sitting on the bench, back rigid as he nervously picked at his nails. One of Lucius’ biggest regrets was the effect his terrible decisions have had on his son, but even as he watched his son wilt while the Dark Lord had stalked the halls of their family home, it still always felt like it was impossible to turn off the road he had set them down. He had been wrong of course, and his wife and son had been smart enough to change course. He was glad that their 13th hour redemption had bought them leniency from the Wizengamot and they would only have probation and not spend any imprisonment time.

Lucius eyes slid over to the Boy Who Lived, sitting beside Draco. His mind was a jumble of anger, resentment, and gratitude that he didn’t have the time to sort through right now. Potter’s testimony in Narcissa and Draco’s favour had been pivotal to their light sentences, and he couldn’t help but feel a newfound gratitude for the kid. As he stared, lost in his thoughts, Harry reached out and placed his hand on Draco’s forearm in an act of comfort and he couldn’t help but notice how the tension in Draco’s shoulders seemed to ease.

Sighing, Lucius turned back to his son and they stared at each other for moments before Lucius gave his head the slightest of nods. Draco seemed to breathe out a sigh of relief and gave him a weak smile and a nod of his head.

Lucius took one last fortifying breath of Narcissa and then he reached up and pulled her clenched hands loose from his robes. Bending down, he gave each of her knuckles a soft kiss, ignoring the impatient shuffling of his Auror guards, and then lifted her face up to look at him.

“Take care of him, my love,” he instructed and a fresh round of tears started their long trek down Narcissa’s beautiful face.

The guards stepped forward and took Lucius’ arms once again as he dropped his grip on his wife’s hands and stepped around her. He didn’t look back as he left the courtroom, but he knew that his family was strong and they would rise like a phoenix out of the ashes he had wrought.


	7. Snow

Draco let out a very undignified shriek as a shock of cold snow fell down his collar and streaked across his back. _Merlin’s balls, that is cold!_

Harry’s head appeared floating in midair as it emerged from that blasted invisibility cloak of his and then fell as the prat doubled over in laughter. _Using the invisibility cloak in a snowball fight is surely cheating. Very un-Gryffindor-like!_

Draco seized his opportunity and tackled Harry’s invisible body, taking him down to the ground and wrestling with him, trying to pin his hands to the ground and give himself the advantage.

Suddenly Harry’s legs were clamped tightly around his waist and the world spinned as Harry flipped them both and straddled Draco’s prone body on the cold ground. The world around them grew fuzzy as the invisibility cloak slid down, draping across their bodies and shielding them from any prying eyes.

Draco realized he’d have to be cunning about this, and bucked up beneath Harry, making it appear as if he was trying to shake him off as he covertly slid his wand out from the holster on his forearm while Harry’s attention was distracted. As the wand slid into his grasp, he slowed his writhing and played the submissive, casting a wordless Wingardium Leviosa spell on the snowball he had dropped during Harry’s dirty attack on him.

Harry pinned his arms, still outside of the cloak’s cover, to the ground and leaned down until his face was hovering just above Draco’s, his lips a breath away from Draco’s.

“Got ya, D,” Harry sighed, his warm breath coasting over Draco’s cold lips.

“What are you going to do with me?” Draco whispered suggestively, tilting his chin up so that their lips just barely touched.

Harry let out a low groan and then crashed his lips down on Draco’s, his hot tongue sweeping in to stroke against Draco’s. It took all of Draco’s concentration to focus on directing the snowball to slip unseen beneath the cloak.

Draco slid his non-wand hand beneath the cloak and shook off Harry’s grasp, bringing it up around to Harry’s back and lifting his shirt. Harry let out a hiss between his teeth as Draco’s snow-chilled fingers rubbed against the bare skin of his lower back, but he didn’t stop Draco’s questing hand. Draco felt the cold snowball bump against the back of his hand and he withdrew his hand from Harry’s warm flesh and grabbed the ball. He ended their kiss and gave Harry a brief, wicked smirk but before Harry could react he smashed the snowball against Harry’s lower back and pushed as much as he could down the back of Harry’s pants.

Harry sprang off of him and Draco couldn’t help himself, bursting into laughter as Harry jumped around, trying to shake the snow out from his clothing.

“Fuck, D! That’s fucking cold!” Harry exclaimed as he continued to shake out his trouser legs.

“I’m aware. Do I need to remind you that you started it?” Draco said as he pulled himself up off the ground and began dusting off his robes.

“At least my snowball just went down your back! Yours went right down my arse crack!”

Draco just sniggered. “That will teach you to challenge a Slytherin. It could have been worse; at least you’re a boxer man.” Draco pointed his wand at Harry and cast a warming charm that caused Harry to stop shivering before casting one on himself. “Come on. Let’s put that handy cloak of yours to use and team up on Granger,” Draco grabbed the front of Harry’s robes and pulled him in the direction of the castle.


	8. Pumpkin Spice

Harry waddles out of the bathroom, his rotund middle getting stuck between the doorframe and needing to be yanked free.

 

“This costume is ridiculous, Draco. I feel like the lovechild of a Weasley and Santa Claus.”

 

Harry turns around to inspect himself in the full-length mirror sitting in one corner of their bedroom. His normally brown hair has been charmed a violent orange colour, and he’s wearing a headband with a short, blunt green stem on the top, making him look a tad like a unicorn reject as well. His arms protrude out to the side out of a large, round pumpkin costume that encases his entire torso, making him need to turn sideways just to squeeze through doors. He looks ridiculous.

“What are you supposed to be anyway?” Harry asks in a disgruntled tone. As far as he can tell, Draco isn’t even wearing a costume, except that his perpetually monochrome wardrobe of all black has been replaced with one of light brown, the colour of brown sugar.

 

Draco gets up from the bed and stalks over to Harry, sliding around between him and the mirror. Up close, Harry can see that Draco’s normally pale, flawless skin, has freckles drawn all over it.

 

“I’m pumpkin spice.” And with that, Draco drops to his knees and unzips Harry’s trousers.


	9. Predictive Text

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I let my phone write the dialogue bits in this one. I'm a little nervous posting this and admitting that some of this is what my phone predicted I would write...

“Cormac masturbates in the middle of the day and I was thinking I could've been there,” Blaise said, turning to Draco.

“I have to be fair to you and the world and say that's a great time,” Draco responded, flipping through the pages of the latest edition of Playwiz magazine.

“I am going to have to be the best time for a while to get a chance to win him,” Blaise said.

“I will take care of it,” Draco said, mysteriously.

“And how much is it going to be?” Blaise asked.

“Don't forget to send me a bit of a turd,” Draco said, standing up and walking away.


	10. Turkey

“One more strike and I’ve got a turkey!” Harry proclaimed as he stood up and walked towards the ball dispenser. His favourite ball, a deep red with gold speckles in it, popped out of the ejector just as Draco’s cool, refined tones carried over from the small table where they were tracking their scores.

“I don’t know why you seem so excited about that,” he said. Harry carefully lined up his shot before taking two small steps forward towards the lane and swinging the ball back behind him. “I’ve always preferred cocks, personally.”

At Draco’s words, all thoughts of his throw flew out of his mind and he lost control of his senses, the ball flying out behind him and rolling back towards Draco, who stopped it with a firm foot on top of it. “I win,” he said with a clever smirk and a burning gaze.


	11. Inspirobot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Drabble was inspired by a randomly generated [Inspirobot](https://inspirobot.me/) motivational poster.

“Dangerous! I told you those beasts were dangerous! Maybe now you’ll listen to me!”

Charlie winced as his mother pulled off his bandage with a little more vigour than strictly necessary. He’s been home for a week and a half now, recovering from a nasty run-in with one of the Peruvian Vipertails on the reserve. He’s fortunate that his crew are beyond amazing at their jobs and knew what to do and acted quickly; they had managed to draw out enough of the poison that his cock-up didn’t turn deadly, but there are no healing spells that are effective on the bite wound. He’d decided that recovering at the Burrow would be the best solution all around since he didn’t want his coworkers to have to worry about him on top of all their other duties—not to mention that he knew his mum would be frantic with worry when she found out he’d been injured.

“The danger is manageable as long as you know how to handle them and treat them with the respect that they deserve, mum. It was my fault; I missed the signs that Lima had just laid her eggs.”

His mum’s mouth was set in a thin line of disapproval, but at his hiss of discomfort, her ministrations softened and she carefully applied a clean bandage to the deep bite wounds on his abdomen. He watched with suspicion as her face slowly transformed into a sly smile and he braced himself for a fresh assault of a different kind.

“Did I happen to mention that Tahira Shafiq has moved back to England? Charming girl, and so interesting! She was regaling your father and me at the last Ministry ball with all of the stories of her travels to the Amazon to investigate Aztecian magical relics. And she’s single, you know?”

Charlie sighed. Some would argue that he’s foolish for working with dragons, but in his books, an angry dragon is a lot more fun than an angry woman.

 


	12. Inspirobot #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspirobot](https://inspirobot.me/) will never get old.

“You’re taking the piss, aren’t you?” Seamus accused Dean, who was currently holding a Muggle camera about an inch away from his nose.

“Stop talking, please. You’re fogging up the lens.”

Seamus rolled his eyes but held his tongue while Dean clicked away for a few more minutes with a serious expression on his face until he seemed satisfied, scrolling through the pictures on the little screen on the back.

“You know more about this art stuff than I ever will, but there’s no way that close-ups of my hairy nostrils are going to impress anyone.”

“You’d be surprised,” Dean chuckled and set the camera down on the table beside them before taking Seamus’ hands in his own and stepping up close to him. “I’m planning on calling this series ‘Holes of the Whole’,” he whispered, his lips just barely brushing against Seamus’.

Seamus gave into the teasing promise and pulled Dean towards him, sealing their mouths together, lips parting and tongues stroking gently until Dean suddenly pulled away from him. “Before we get carried away, get your kit off. We have a few more holes that need to be captured.”

Seamus spluttered, unable to string together an intelligent sentence, as Dean gave him a sly smile. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while, Seamie.”

Seamus could feel the heat suffuse his pale skin at the naughty promise in those words. Dean always knew what to say to push all of his buttons. Seamus donned a mask of bravado and stared boldly into his lover’s eyes as he unfastened his trousers. Indeed, he maintained that eye contact until the very last moment, when he turned his back to Dean, slid his fingers under the waistband of his pants, and slid them down his thighs as he bent over. Who was he to deny the world a piece of art?

 


	13. Howler

Ron and Harry’s heads shot up as their office door slammed open and a snow-white owl flew in carrying an all-too-familiar red envelope. Harry steeled himself as the envelope flaps opened, an angry mouth appeared, and a booming, posh voice filled their office moments after Ron finished casting a hasty  _ Muffliato _ Charm.

“I know I’ve done some pretty terrible things in my life,” Draco’s voice exploded from the animated envelope and Harry cringed, “but I don’t know what I could have done to deserve being in love with a total prat who would think that I would ever agree to move to somewhere called  _ Moose Jaw. _ Be here on time tonight. I have more to yell at you.”

The Howler finished it’s pre-recorded rant with a flickering hiss of its red ribbon tongue and then erupted into flames, raining ashes down onto the paperwork on Harry’s desk. He started rubbing the mess off his desk as Ron said, “I’m really sorry, mate. It sounds like you won’t be getting that promo...why are you smiling?”

Harry couldn’t help the wide smile that was taking over his face. “He said he loves me.”


	14. Camping

“You have got to be kidding me!”

Ron sighed as Draco inspected the tent with a look of incredulous disgust on his face, circling around it slowly as if he would like nothing more than to pull out his wand and cast an  _ Incendio _ at the offending structure.

“There’s no way that two grown men will fit in that tiny thing. Why can’t we cast an Undetectable Extension Charm on it so we won’t be sleeping practically on top of each other?”

Ron tried to ignore the discomfiting feeling that settled in his belly at Draco’s words and silently cursed his ginger colouring which meant that he was probably turning a betraying shade of crimson right now. “We can’t use any magic on it or we’ll run the risk of the Muggles walking in and discovering it. It won’t be that bad.”

Draco said nothing for a few moments and just pinned him with a sceptical look before his lips tilted in a faint uptick at the one corner. “Fine, but if it drops below freezing, you’d better keep me warm.”

Draco’s chuckle trailed behind him as he disappeared inside the tent and heat rushed to Ron’s face.


	15. Beach

“Come on, Scorp. Come swimming with me?” Albus plunked down into the lounge chair beside him and shook his head like a dog, sending droplets flying off at all angles and spattering on Scorpius’s bare chest.

Scorpius didn’t respond at first, lost in thought as he watched the flex of Albus’s muscles as he ran his hands through his hair, slicking the dark strands, nearly black with moisture from his earlier swim.

“Earth to Scorpius!” Scorpius jolted to attention when he realized that Albus was trying to get his attention.

“The sun’s too intense; I’ll burn,” he muttered, focusing intently on the latest edition of  _ Quidditch Monthly _ that he had been reading before Albus had distracted him so entirely.

“Scoot forward,” Albus barked the order as he yanked the magazine out of Scorpius’s hands and dropped it on the lounge chair he had just vacated. When Scorpius didn’t move, Albus smacked his back lightly a few times until Scorpius reluctantly slid forward, making room for Albus to slide in between his back and the backrest of the chair. “I’m going to make sure every inch of this porcelain skin is slathered with sunblock and then you and I are going for a swim.”

As he felt Albus’s warm hands spread the cool lotion carefully over his shoulder blades, Scorpius’s objections melted away under the summer sun.


	16. Record

“What do you mean 'the Ministry's records seem to have been misplaced’?”

 

The Ministry wizard shifted awkwardly in the threadbare armchair. The start spring that was digging into his left buttock almost matched the discomfort he was feeling from Molly Weasley's formidable glare.

 

“It seems…” His voice squeaked so he cleared his throat and tried again, looking just over her shoulder instead of at the eyes that were trying to hex him on the spot. “It seems that during the…uh…administrative irregularities,” an unamused snort from the couch interrupted him, but he ignored it and continued, “some of your family's records were, um, misplaced, including your marriage bond scroll.”

 

“So what does that mean, exactly?” Arthur Weasley asked from his seat on the couch beside his wife where he was rubbing soothing circles over her back.

 

“Well, it means that...well...that you're not  _ technically _ married anymore.”

 

“That's horrible!” Molly hollered at the same time her husband exclaimed it to be “wonderful” and the wizard breathed a sigh of relief that her ire was now directed elsewhere.

 

“Right, I'll just…” He motioned toward the front door of the Burrow but neither of them reacted, too busy glaring at one another to notice him. He seized his opportunity and beat a hasty retreat.

 

“Wonderful, is it?” Molly seethed as she heard the crack of Apparition that told her that snivelling little welp from the Ministry had finally left. “After almost three decades of marriage and seven children, it's wonderful to be rid of me?”

 

To her annoyance, Arthur merely laughed. “Don't be daft, woman. You know that you're it for me.” Molly felt the roiling anger begin to die down as he stroked her hair behind her ear on one side and wrapped his strong hand around the back of her neck. “And now I get to marry you all over again.”

 

She felt the last of her anger fizzle out before she pulled Arthur against her for a long, slow kiss. Pulling away, she gave him a cheeky grin. “It will be nice to exchange our vows without having to fight off morning sickness.”


	17. Technology

“Hello? HELLO?” Hermione plugged her other ear with her finger as she strained to make out the voice on the other end of the line.

“I tell you mate, she’s it for me. She’s perfect.”

Hermione smiled fondly at her boyfriend’s effusive praise. He wasn’t answering her queries, so she assumed he must have butt-dialled her again. The basics of telephonic communications continued to elude him, the mobile she gave him introducing even more potential pitfalls, bless him.

“When….goin….ask….marry….” Hermione could only make out intermittent words, but she knew that Ron and Harry were out having a couple of pints.

“Tomorrow,” Ron answered Harry’s question, and Hermione’s face broke into a cheek-to-cheek grin at the news that Ron was apparently going to propose on their anniversary tomorrow. “I can’t wait until I’m the lucky bugger that gets to call her my wife.”

Not wanting to ruin Ron’s surprise, Hermione hung up her mobile and tucked it back into her handbag.

“Who was that?” Ginny asked.

Hermione had to fight to hold back the exciting news of her impending engagement from her friend. “Oh, it was just a butt-dial.”


End file.
